


Insanity

by Amethyst97Skye



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Explicit Language, Gen, Hearing Voices, I Don't Even Know, Mental Instability, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 17:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13931565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethyst97Skye/pseuds/Amethyst97Skye
Summary: "Can you do something about this weird glowing green torch-bug stuck to my hand? I think it's trying to kill me. Thanks awfully."





	Insanity

When she woke, the first sensation that greeted her was the overwhelming urge to shit herself. Now, don’t worry. Waking up in a windowless dungeon surrounded by big, beefy, brainless Nords wielding pointy sticks wasn’t so unusual.

At least, not for her.

Well, it wasn’t exactly _normal_ , but it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, either.

Suffice to say – she wasn’t scared. Not in the slightest. No. She just really, really,  _really_ needed a piss. After a few hundred years of exploring the Void, though not before she served her sentence with Nocturnal, of course, and then there were her travels across the Planes of Oblivion – she needed a little change of scenery every now and again – it was to be expected.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a shit. It would be an interesting experience, to say the least. But… there was a problem. Every time she tried to talk, the Nords would poke her with their pointy sticks and –

_Swords, Crypt. They’re called swords. Remember what they’re used for?_

"…Poking people?"

_Gutting people._

"Oh, yes, of course!"

Why they didn’t do that barehanded was beyond her, but everyone was entitled to their preferences. They probably didn’t have her strength, or her stamina, or her strong stomach, and she could hardly blame them. Oblivion bred very strange souls. She hadn’t met anyone quite like herself in all her life!

The Nords shuffled like blushing country bumpkin maidens. Did her laughter turn them on? Or, were they just shy?

_They’re terrified of you, idiot!_

"And that’s… bad?"

In her experience, when people were afraid of you, they were far less likely to stab you in the back. Hatred was a good motivator. So was love, and envy, and pride, and desire –

"Huh. No wonder everyone wanted me dead."

She, of course, refused to die. Categorically refused. With a passion.

"And I passionately need a piss!"

_Just stand up and go already!_

Without her iron will and steel restraint, when the door burst open, she really _would_ have pissed herself. Two women walked in, one wearing armour and the other wearing strangely short robes. And _fake_ dragon scale greaves.

O…kay. Warrior and… thief? Assassin? Dagger in the boot, knife up the sleeve – Assassin it is!

“Evening ladies! Or, wait – is it afternoon? Early morning? Ugh. Whatever. Look, I really need a piss so if you’d just help me out of these rusty bracelets, I think we’d all appreciate it. Also, can you do something about this weird glowing green torch-bug stuck to my hand? I think it's trying to kill me. Thanks awfully."


End file.
